


Dance of the Night

by DeerlyQueery



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dragons, Fantasy, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Prophecy, mythical creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25920826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeerlyQueery/pseuds/DeerlyQueery
Summary: A shadow stalks the nights of the Everland. Once the moon has risen the beast awakens, rending life from the world in an unstoppable and inevitable slaughter. The little dragon Turan, hatched amid death and destruction, must find the golden dragon of legend to end the darkness and finally bring peace to these lands.





	1. Life and Death

Silence. The crisp night air was still, not even the wind daring to break the stillness. Not a creature stirred under the silvery moonlight hanging above, bathing the tall grasses and still leaves like a glimmering sea under its piercing gaze. Breaking from the ground like gnarled claws reaching towards the sky was a mountain that ripped through the clouds above, as though a great beast had tried to climb its way to the heavens but fell short of its mark. A shadow stirred at the base of the rocky ground, climbing its way up the stiff cliffside with smooth movements, as though its paws didn’t even need to touch the ground. Slowly and silently it reached the top of the mountain.

The silence was broken in an instant. Furious roars ripped through the sky and fire lit up the night in blazing oranges before being swallowed up by the dark of night. The stillness returned within moments. The shadowy figure descended the mountain on soundless paws and vanished into the night. A mourning cry rang out across the lands as the wind blew through the trees once more, the bugs and creatures all returning to their normal lives. A life had been taken and now the rest were safe for one more night.

Atop the mountain sat a large nest of woven grasses, hidden under an overcropping of stone to shade it from the harsh afternoon sunlight beaming down across the cracked and aged stone. Within the nest there was movement. A small shaking and the sound of cracking. Hidden from the dangers of the world lay a white egg dappled with gold spots. As the egg cracked open a small form emerged. Wet from birth and on shaky legs a blue dragon broke free of its confining shell, shaking the leftover pieces from its scales. Its blue colors were broken up with black splotches along its flank and legs. The new baby looked around with wide eyes full of wonder at the light seeping in from under the stony cover. Slowly it clawed its way out of the soft grasses and emerged into the world.

The baby dragon was forced to blink rapidly as its eyes adjusted to the blinding light but the warmth that came with it made the small one purr in contentment. When they finally could their wide green eyes opened and took in the vast open world. What it was met with, however, wasn’t quite so welcoming. Around the new hatchling lay the bodies of other dragons, large and small, the rotting stench filling the air from the harsh heat brough by the sun. The hatchling gagged and took a shaky step back, breath quickening with fear as it looked for a way out of the massacre. A piercing shriek from above made the hatchling’s view jerk to the sky but before it could react the ground was flying away fast and wind was whipping past its face. Sharp claws digging into the hatchling’s sides made it cry out in pain and, in a panic, it bit into the leg of the large bird that had decided it would be its next meal. The bird squawked in pain and released the small dragon who, with a rustle of leaves, crashed into the trees below. 

The little blue dragon managed to catch a branch on its way down and slowed its fall to the ground, landing in the grass bruised but not broken. It shook itself and got to its paws, looking around in confusion at its surroundings. The area was thick with trees, sunlight streaking in from above, filtered with a green hue from the leaves rustling gently in the slow warm wind. A cracking in the bushes behind it made the hatchling whip around with a threatening growl. At least, as threatening as a tiny winged lizard could be. From the foliage came a large cocatrice, a dragon relative that looked to be a dragon crossed with a chicken. With a long scaly tail and small feathered wings it approached with slow and curious steps. The bird observed the small growling hatchling with its head tilted curiously, sharp amber eyes narrowed in confusion. After a moment it leaned down to meet eyes with the defensive dragon. In a voice that seemed to waver with each syllable, high in pitch but sure in its words, it spoke.

“Young chick, where are your parents?” The cocatrice asked, long claws scratching at the ground and beak clacking as it thought. A freshly hatched dragon doesn’t end up abandoned like this unless something had happened to its parents. The cocatrice paused at that thought and looked up to the mountains visible through small breaks in the leaves above. Just last night it had been ablaze with flames and fighting. She had heard rumor that a group of dragons had settled there as a nest, making the Clawstone their home.

The hatchling tilted its head as the bird wyvern looked away and followed her gaze towards the mountain in the far distance. It shuddered at the memory of the rotting bodies and gave a nervous chirp, pressing close to the only comfort it had now, the cocatrice. She looked down in surprise and watched the dragon with head tilted. The hatchling pressed tight against her side, shivering lightly as it tried to escape the chill brought by the shade of the forest. The cocatrice clacked its beak and looked back towards the mountain standing still and silent in the distance.

Finally, she sighed and stood. “I suppose I can help you learn to survive.” She decided and with a quick grab picked up the hatchling by the tail, it squeaking and flailing in complaint, before carrying it off into the Deep Forest to her nest.


	2. Stories of Old

It was only the first night and already the Cocatrice was fed up with her new chick. While her normal babies slept peacefully through the night all the dragon wanted to do was cause trouble in their exploring and make a mess of the nest. She hissed and gave a warning squawk as the dragon clawed its way up a tree and balanced precariously on a thin branch with their wings spread, as though they could catch the slow night breeze to fly. 

“Turan, get down here this instant! During the night you must keep quiet!” She scolded, the dragon finally climbing their way down and running over. 

“Why’s that, Mama? The night’s so pretty and quiet! It makes me want to explore!” Turan exclaimed, tail wagging from pent-up energy. The world was new and beautiful and they wanted to see it all! A sharp glare from Mama, however, made the hatchling wither under her gaze. 

“The night isn’t any sort of beautiful, Turan. The dark brings terrifying dangers and if you don’t keep quiet those dangers could come find us.” The cocatrice warned with a huff of breath. Slowly the hatchling nodded, head tilted in thought.

“What kinds of dangers are there?” They asked, finally crawling into the nest among the group of three other baby Cocatrice still fast asleep. As Mama settled back down atop her brood Turan’s head wiggled its way out from under her. The cocatrice sighed and rolled her eyes, fluffing out her feathers to keep her chicks warm. 

“Well, Turan… To a little baby like you there’s quite a lot of danger. Owls, ghouls, imps, not to mention-” She cut herself off with a start and her beak clacked a nervous chitter. “Nevermind. Just go to sleep, little one.” She insisted and with a wing pushed Turan back into the safety under her. The dragon gave a huff but obliged and curled up to sleep, tail flicking restlessly through the night.

Over the course of a few days Turan was learning the laws of the land well. Night meant hiding away and staying safe until the dangers had passed while day meant figuring out how to survive. While Turan’s siblings were having no trouble learning to hunt and hide the dragon was always restless and fidgety. When told to sit still and hide in the brush they’d come pouncing out to attack a falling leaf. When told to find and retrieve some food they’d wander off and come back with a shiny rock. By the time the sun hung high in the sky the cocatrice chicks could hide in a moment and retrieve small animals and grubs to eat while Turan seemed almost uninterested in learning to survive at all. 

Mama went over to the hatchling while her other children ate their catches, sitting down by them with a frown while they batted at light shafts cast through the gently waving leaves above. “Turan, what are you doing? You should be learning to hunt, not playing with the light!” She insisted. The dragon looked up at her in confusion, head tilted.

“I’m not playing with the light, Mama! I’m trying to catch it so we can use it when it turns dark and stay safe!” Turan said excitedly, crouching low and eyeing the light glittering against the green grasses. “I’ve almost got it! Don’t you worry!” Before the dragon could pounce, however, Mama stopped them by picking the hatchling up by their tail and bringing them over to her other chicks. 

As she set down the dragon she shook her head. “It’d be a good idea if you really could catch the sunlight but the light can’t be caught. It dances away through our claws and escapes every trap the creatures have placed.” She explained. 

"Really? How strange!" Turan exclaimed with wide eyes as they looked up to the sky through the trees, a shaft of light gleaming off the scales on their snout. “How did the light get made, Mama? Is it a bunch of little bugs or is it a dragon breathing fire all the time?” They asked curiously, the other chicks gathering around with heads tilted.

“No way! A dragon couldn’t breathe fire that long!” One of them chirped, squawking with annoyance as he was pecked by an older chick.

“You haven’t even seen a dragon before!” She pointed out, quickly ducking away as the smaller chick pulled at her feathers.

“I don’t have to see a dragon to know nothing could do anything for that long!” He argued, the bickering chicks silenced by a clack from Mama. 

"Stop fighting, you two. Both of you are right and wrong." Mama looked to the sky, seeing the sun slowly reaching towards the horizon, the bright blue sky beginning to fade into a deep purple signaling the approach of the night. “I suppose a story before bed shouldn’t hurt…” She said and settled down in front of the chicks. She thought for a moment about what story she should tell, beak chattering in thought and ruffling her feathers as he got settled. “This is the story of how the Founder made the world. It’s an old story that goes back before the dragons and before the trees, before even the very ground beneath us was formed.” Her chicks gasped in shock, chittering with confusion as to how that was possible, before they fell silent again to listen. 

“Long ago there was nothing. No land, no plants, no animals, not even colors to brighten the world. The only things that could exist was the Founder. Not much is known of the Founder, not what they are nor why they existed, but it watched over the black void of eternal night for centuries unending. Eventually they grew bored of the nothingness of its life, of simply watching the swirling darkness. So, they decided to create things. With a roar that cracked the void they created the stars in the sky. Excited by this new thing the Founder breathed a great breath of fire and created the sun and the light to cut through the dark. They spread their wings and blew color across the void and the stars. Their shed scales made the earth and with a great breath of water in place of fire the Founder made the oceans and streams. By the end the Founder gave its blood to the land to create the plants and animals of the world. Exhausted by its work, the Founder buried itself in the center of the Earth and slept, content with what it had made. Even now it is said that the Founder sleeps beneath the ground, spreading its energy across the earth it had created and giving life to the world, allowing it the chance to continue to change and grow without their interference.” By the end of the story night had finally fallen and the chicks yawned widely, though Turan was wide awake and practically bouncing off the trees.

“That’s awesome! So there’s a huge beast in the middle of the earth? What does it look like? Do you think we can dig to it? How did it breathe fire and water? How-” They were cut off by Mama smooshing them to the ground with a wing. 

“Turan, you can ask questions in the morning. It’s time to sleep now.” She said and stood, ushering her chicks to the nest. 

“But Mamaaa-” Turan whined, trying to push back against her.

“No buts, little one. The faster you sleep the faster it’ll be morning and you can ask those questions.” Mama said, settling on top of the chicks to keep them warm and safe. Turan let out a small huff beneath her but obliged, curling up and falling into a deep sleep. Mama’s gaze scanned the dark forest. It seemed far too quiet tonight. The crickets that usually chirped and buzzed in the chilly night air were nowhere to be found and the air hung heavy and still. A shadow began creeping across the cocatrice’s vision and within moments everything went dark.


	3. Darkness Rising

It was cold. So terribly cold. Turan opened their eyes only to be met with an inky darkness all around them, swirling like a shadowy void. They tried to move but it felt like their paws were firmly rooted to the darkness that made up the ground. As Turan struggled to get their paws to move there came a soft humming from all around them and the shadows began to speak. 

“Such a young soul to take. You could have had a life ahead of you, little dragon.” The words seemed to echo and vibrate all around, as though Turan was trapped in a cave deep within the ground. Panic rising by the moment, threatening to suffocate the dragon, Turan let out a fearful squeak. The darkness laughed, a booming thunder that reverberated within the little dragon, threatening to shatter them like glass. 

“There is no need to fear, young one. It won’t hurt. You’ll just fall into a little sleep. Doesn’t that sound nice?” The cold grew sharper. Turan’s scales felt like they were made of ice, quick breaths gasping out small puffs of fog as the icy chill crept its way towards the little dragon’s heart. From the darkness a form approached, cloaked in a veil of smoky shadows and disguising its true form which seemed to bend and warp with each movement. Turan felt their heart stop. This was what true fear felt like. Their mind raced , thoughts a blur with only one phrase.  _ I don’t want to die.  _ A surge of fear-fueled adrenaline came over the little dragon and, muscles shrieking in protest, Turan raised a paw and lashed out at the shadowy being. 

Caught off guard, the creature reeled back with a snarl, smoky veil parting where it had been struck, revealing a face of deep black scales. One eye was closed, bearing the bleeding mark of claws that Turan had left. The dragon felt the seizing hold on them slacken and with all the energy they could muster tore free of the beasts’s hold, running into the seemingly-endless darkness. From behind them the creature roared, the thudding of paws hitting ground pursuing the dragon. 

“You can run, young one, but you will not escape!” The creature snarled as the void of black whirled around Turan, leaving the dragon disoriented and confused, before it melted away to nothingness.

Turan awoke gasping and trembling, Mama’s frightened face looking down at her child from above.

“Turan! Oh thank the Founder, you’re awake!” She exclaimed, pulling the dragon into her embrace and smothering them with her love. “I was so worried! You were so cold and trembling like a leaf and you weren’t waking up!”

Turan felt almost numb. Their scales still felt ice cold and they were still trembling violently. The little dragon looked up at his mother with teary eyes and buried their face against her chest, sobbing and holding her close. “Mama-! Mama, there was a shadow and it tried to eat me! I thought I was a goner, it felt so real-!”

Mama stiffened and her irises narrowed to slits as she quickly looked around in the forest before back down at her child. Not born of her own but still raised as any other of her chicks, not hers but yet still no matter what hers. By now the dragon had grown quite a bit, reaching the Cocatrice’s chest and as long as she was from head to tail. Who knew how big her chick would get before they were fully grown. Even if they grew to reach the sky Mama would love them all the same. The cocatrice sighed and wrapped Turan up in her wings, nuzzling them comfortingly.

“Turan… You say you saw a shadow that tried to take you?” The dragon looked up at her and nodded, looking worried. Mama’s beak chattered and she sat down, meeting Turan’s concerned eyes. “My little chick… There’s a great danger that’s set its sights on you. A shadow that stalks the night and devours the souls of the living.” The dragon’s eyes widened, pupils narrowing to slits with fear. “He cannot be stopped and he will never give up the hunt, but...” She looked out past the trees and to the sky where birds flittered among the calm blue light, Turan following her gaze and catching sight of a fast-loving shape far above the clouds, with a lithe body of glittering emerald scales and massive wings that beat against the wind, defying the land’s constant pull. “If we can find the dragons they may be able to help you!” She stood, shaking out her feathers and stretching her wings.

Turan Looked up at her in surprise and confusion. “How would the dragons be able to help though? Can they fight the monster?” Mama shook her head and stepped out of the nest, gesturing for Turan to follow with a flick of her tail and a clack of her beak. The dragon hopped out of the nest and followed as they began walking away, towards the deep forest that lay beyond. 

“The dragons cannot best this monster, however, it is said in tales about it that a drago of shimmering gold will be able to end its tyranny. If we can find the golden dragon they can protect you!” She explained, giving a last look back at the empty pile of twigs and grasses that had served as their nest for the past year sadly. It seemed only yesterday all of her chicks had been playing and exploring, learning about the world around them. She had grown far too familiar with the dark presence that now turned its fangs to Turan, and she would be damned if she let the beast take the last thing she held dear. With a determined snap of her beak and shake of her head she picked up the pace, leading her last chick towards their last ray of hope and towards the territory of the dragons.

**Author's Note:**

> My schedule is very random as are my motivation levels. This story will be updated at random intervals and may go a while without being updated.


End file.
